


i wanna do bad things to you

by estel_willow, mandsangelfox



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M, alex in eyeliner, ambiguous timeline, michael is a telekinetic tease, pwf - porn with feelings, willfully ignoring 1x13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-07 03:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18612397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estel_willow/pseuds/estel_willow, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandsangelfox/pseuds/mandsangelfox
Summary: Fucking Alex Manes and his fucking eyeliner goth emo aesthetic. It should not be as attractive as it is but it is. It really is. It also rockets Michael back to a time when things weren’t so complicated and neither of them carried their baggage like they were going on a long haul flight across the world.aka Alex dressed like he's seventeen again does all sorts of things to Michael and they Work It Out (naked).





	i wanna do bad things to you

**Author's Note:**

> So what started out intending to just be a PWP ended up having some feels in it, too. Rude.

Alex felt a strange, twisting anxiety about coming to the party. After all, it isn't really his scene anymore and spending too long on his feet is a one way trip to codeine-city and twelve hours rest but Maria and Liz had both pestered him about coming and honestly the idea of a throwback party was appealing, especially as it gave him a chance to start working on Operation Guerin. He hasn't spoken to Michael in what feels like forever, their last meeting could have gone significantly better and it wasn't until later that he realised just how much he had screwed up by saying he needed time and not making sure Michael was _listening_.

He's spent time since then working on himself, what he wants, trying to take down Project Shepherd from the inside because fuck if he's going to let his father ruin this for him again and fuck if he's going to let his father take Michael away. He lifts his beer and smiles absently at something Liz is saying, nail polish on his thumb already slightly chipped from where he's been worrying at it, like an old habit that never truly left him. He's felt eyes on him for the last little while and he knows it's Guerin. He'd be stupid not to. And Alex Manes might be a lot of things but stupid isn't one of them.

He’s dug out an old t-shirt that’s just this side of too tight now that he’s taller and broader, but it was somewhat reassuring to know that those months of practice going into learning how to properly apply eyeliner and paint his nails hadn’t all gone to waste. His jeans are tighter than anything he's worn since he was eighteen but the look sort of falls back onto him like he'd never stopped and so when he finally turns his head to meet Guerin's eyes with a smirk that's bordering on wicked and he lifts his beer to his lips, swaying a little in time with the music that's pounding overhead he feels a jolt in his stomach. He watches Guerin for a moment, before pulling his eyes away unable to handle the way his whole body responds to the other man.

Fucking Alex Manes and his fucking eyeliner goth emo aesthetic. It should not be as attractive as it is but it is. It really is. It also rockets Michael back to a time when things weren’t so complicated and neither of them carried their baggage like they were going on a long haul flight across the world. Memories are some of the strongest things especially for Michael who by his very nature and DNA is not human. They hold weight, value and emotion. Emotion being key. That right there is a trigger. Michael can’t deny his emotions. He’s never been able to. He can shove them down so far into a dark pit that he calls self-loathing and disappointment but they are always there, plucking at his heartstrings like a violinist.

It’s not even just the eyeliner. It’s everything else as well. It’s the fake nose ring, the UFO emporium t-shirt, that fucking silver chain and his hair. His hair hasn’t looked that way in years and every single inch of Michael’s long fingers itch to bury themselves in it. To touch, taste and feel.

So far he’s resisted. Barely. Only just. Beer normally helps. Gives him something to do with his hands but tonight? Tonight, it’s failing him. And that pisses him off. How many times are they going to do this dance? How many more times will Alex walk away before Michael stops doing a Max and just accepts that it’s never ever going to work?

Apparently one more time, for good measure.

He isn’t sure what possesses him but something does. Maybe it’s the way Alex is lifting his eyebrows in conversation with Liz and Maria or maybe it’s the way the light catches his cheek but Michael is moving. Stalking even. Cutting through the swathes of people who clutter the floor and latching his hand rather firmly around Alex’s arm with only the smallest, “we need to talk,” rumbled out from his chest before he’s pulling Alex away.

Alex knows Guerin’s moving, he’s got a great radial awareness of where the other man is at all time and he can feel the tightness in his chest. It's the same one he always feels whenever Michael's near, that inevitable tug. The pull that has him wanting to slide his hands through those curls, push up under his shirt and- 

And as he's contemplating just what he would let Michael do to him, Guerin's suddenly in his space and hauling him away. The surprised sound from Liz barely registers and his beer bottle tilts and wobbles dangerously as he manages to lift a hand to wave goodbye to her as he's all but bodily hauled away from the main party. It isn't hot, except in all the ways that it is, and when the music's died down, Alex curls his fingers around the hand fisted in his shirt, gently. 

The wall in the back is the closest and Michael, without hesitation, shoves Alex against it. His eyes dark and clouded with what was, initially, something that feels like anger but that has now ebbed and been replaced with _want_ that, in turn, wars with something that tastes like **need**. He’s quiet. Hasn’t said a word since he marched Alex off but now that he has him somewhere away and semi-private all he can do is look and soak it in like a man lost in the desert where Alex is the only source of water.

"You know if you wanted to talk there's beer and tables back in there," Alex manages dryly, tongue darting out over his lower lip, anticipation hanging in the air as his eyes move over Michael's face. Except talking isn’t exactly what Michael has on his mind. His intentions are made even more obvious by the way his eyes track the movement of Alex’s tongue. Sharp, eagled-eye and aware. He feels the curl of Alex’s fingers around his hand like a brand which he knows is impossible given that Alex is human and has no powers. Regardless he feels it. The burn has never felt so good.

Michael puffs out a short hot breath before he asserts himself a little more. A denim-clad thigh between Alex’s, spreading them further than they have any right to be in public and hand capturing Alex’s fingers until he pries them away and chases the faint smell of that familiar black polish with his nose at first before he replaces it with his mouth. 

The wall's firm and hard against Alex's back as Michael crowds him against it, breath catching and head falling back at the press of a thigh between his legs and he can't help the way he instinctually rocks into the pressure, teeth catching on his lower lip when Michael's lips curl around his finger and he is _gone_. He groans, the sound low and gutteral and though this had pretty much been what he had been aiming for he didn't expect it to be quite so public.

Michael, however, doesn’t care that they’re in public. Doesn’t care who can see them. He wants and he needs so badly that the rest of the world can go fuck itself and God help anyone who tries to interrupt.

It’s rare that Michael Guerin of all people is quiet but when he is there’s a reason. Normally a good one. Now is no exception. There is no need for words. Not when he can say everything he wants to say with his touches.

The ghost of parents past tries to rear its ugly head but Michael's tongue curls around the tip of his finger and Alex thumps his head against the wall again, his other hand lifting to twist in Michael's shirt, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. He settles for neither, his need for more warring with his fear of something happening to Michael if they're discovered, but he shifts his weight slightly and his breath stutters again, a curse slipping from his lips. 

"You know anyone could w- walk around the corner right now, Guerin," he manages, hand not currently being exquisitely tortured by Michael's tongue releasing his shirt, wandering up along the curve of his throat and into those curls of its own volition, fingers fisting in them. "Shouldn't we take this somewhere more private?" His mouth is feeling jealous of the attention his fingers are getting, not saying anything about how the rest of him feels.

Private? Another word for secret. Of course, Michael’s too swept up in the moment to care. He couldn’t care less what the world thinks of him. He knows it isn’t the same for Alex but if he was really that concerned then he wouldn’t have gotten this far. Releasing Alex’s fingers he lifts his head and tracks his gaze over the eyeliner framing those deep chocolate brown eyes that have starred in his dirtiest dreams. It drops away to focus on the ring gracing Alex’s nose and lingers there before it sweeps away to land rather solidly on Alex’s mouth.

His throat feels dry which he thinks is ironic considering he’s looking at Alex like he’s a tall glass of water. His hands lift, curling around Alex’s neck before his thumbs slide upwards to catch on and follow the sharpness of Alex’s cheekbones. His touch is reverent as if Alex is the most precious thing he’s ever touched which is in complete contrast to how he rolls his body into Alex. That’s just low down filthy.

"Fuck, _Michael_ ," Alex breathes, voice hoarse as he reacts instinctively to Michael's body rolling into him. His fingers tighten in Michael's curls, tugging gently because he's never been one to actually hurt Michael intentionally, and he knows walking away over and over and over isn't the best way of showing Michael how he feels. That this? This probably isn't really the best way of showing him how he feels either but communication outside of a military setting had never been his strong suit.

Michael's hands are on his face and Alex is surrounded and he feels warm and roiling and wanted, a craving deep inside of him that only Michael seems to satisfy (and God Alex tried to find someone who makes him feel so good but there's no one) sparking like a wildfire. He manages to break himself away from Michael's gaze to look over his shoulder, at where the party's in full swing and there's a moment of hesitation. He feels like he's on a precipice and not just because his body's rolling into Michael's instinctively. 

“You really want me to move?” Michael finally speaks, voice thick and heavy with unbridled desire.

Alex wets his lower lip, feels his expression settle into that stubborn, rebellious one that had sat in his eyes for most of his teenage years and he shakes his head, other hand sliding to Michael's hip as he pulls him in, crashing their lips together.

He sees a flicker of the old Alex. The one he’d fallen in love with. And he opens his mouth to say something but then Alex’s kissing him which means he can’t think let alone speak. A strangled sound escapes the back of his throat as he gives himself over to that kiss completely and utterly, drinking in the taste of Alex and letting himself touch as much as physically possible without there being a barrier of clothing between them.

If it’s possible to equate a person with a feeling then Alex is the personification of everything Michael has in equal parts wanted and feared. That all-consuming burning love that either sets your world alight or takes you down with it. He’s had a mix of it with Alex and like the moth that he is he can’t help but be pulled back in by that flame that he carries for Alex.

The fire it can’t be contained, it spreads, wipes out anything or anyone that stands in its way and Lord knows he’s tried to fuck it - and Alex - out of his system. He’d thought he’d succeeded and then Alex Manes came back from war a walled up, broken shell of his former self and all Michael could do was beat his hands against those walls in the hopes that maybe just maybe he’d be strong enough to tear them down.

Alex's hand slips to the centre of Michael's back, arm tensing to pull him closer as his teeth catch on Michael's lower lip and tug, sucking it into his mouth as he rocks his hips forward and fuck he can't think past the moment, past the warmth of Michael's breath on his face and fingers against his skin. He knows they'll need to move before this goes any further than a heated make out against a wall, but he doesn't even know if his leg'll hold him up right now, his whole body's electrified. 

"As much as I don't want to, we really need to move," he manages, voice hoarse and low against Michael's mouth. He doesn't want anyone to see them, not primarily because he's afraid of getting caught but because this is _theirs_ , his and Michael's and he doesn't want other people seeing the way Michael falls apart around him.

At some point Michael's hands have drifted to curl around the back of Alex's neck, his thumbs spreading out to smooth over the golden skin that he has on more than occasion graced with his mouth. "Your place or mine?" He asks, agreeing that perhaps it's time to take this to a more private venue and he knows it's no longer about being seen, not for Alex, it's about something else.

He flicks his eyes up and searches Alex's gaze.

"Why do we both live so far out of town?" Alex retorts, words mumbled and eyes half closed as he meets Michael's gaze and he can feel the heat behind it. It steals his breath away and he has to take a moment before lifting his eyes to look at Michael again. "Yours." The junkyard's closer than his cabin, "Wait-" because Michael hasn't seen the cabin, hasn't been there, and if Alex wants this to be something more than what it's always been, if he wants Michael to understand maybe it needs to be somewhere else. 

He wets his lower lip, meets Michael's gaze. "Mine."

His? That's a surprise. It's not what Michael had been expecting. He's used to this thing between them being a secret, not touching on the life that Alex keeps separate from him. He holds that gaze and gives a small nod, reluctantly untangling himself before pushing out a breath.

He isn't really sure what happens now. Do they leave together or does he wait and then leave sometime after Alex?

Alex groans again as Michael pulls away, wetting his lower lip and sagging against the wall just for a moment, mourning the loss of warmth and contact and pressure and feeling like he might explode if Michael so much as looks at him wrong. 

He's still before he just grabs Michael's hand and tugs, head held high and expression set as he leads the way back out through the party. Most people are too busy to notice them anyway, and anyone who does doesn't comment - and Alex is glad for that but he can feel Maria's eyes on him and normally that might make him squirm but he's too busy remembering what it's like to be crowded against a wall to think of anything else right now. 

Alex is surprising this evening. Maybe it's the fact he's tapped back into his teenage self but Michael doesn't feel like he can keep up, he's definitely stumbling, but at the same time he isn't falling. He's falling in step, letting his hand be caught and for him to be tugged along. He's never cared so it's nothing to him to walk through the crowd hand in hand with Alex but he knows what it means for the other man to be so obvious. 

"How much've you had to drink?" he asks when they hit the cooling night air and it's dizzying in itself. Alex hasn’t had much to drink, but the air is a stark contrast to the heat inside, the heat of where Michael’s hand is still pressed against his. "Guerin, can you drive?"

It's as they hit that cool night air that he becomes aware of just how much he has had to drink. He isn't drunk. He'd sobered up quickly when he'd first slammed Alex up against that wall, but, still. "I dunno," he admits. "I mean I could but I'm not sure if I should."

Alex reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keys. He's only had two beers, so he knows he's okay to at least get them back to his cabin, a drive he can do in his sleep - provided Michael keeps his hands to himself and they don't end up veering off the road. He tips his head, eyebrow arching a little, ring on his index finger catching in the street lights. 

Michael's eyes flick away from Alex to the way the light catches on the ring that decorates his fingers instead, finding himself obsessed with them and the eyeliner. The dark lines that outline and frame his eyes. It's ridiculous how hot Alex looks right now and whilst Michael always finds himself attracted to and wanting to rip Alex's clothes off there's something much more intense with the choice of aesthetic this evening. He can't put it into words but he figures that's okay, it's not like they've ever needed a lot of words.

"You wanna go for a ride?" Alex asks, fighting with his own urge to run and hide from the steps he's taking because this is important right here, this is Michael and he wants this. He wants Michael. 

Michael does find himself smirking at the return of the words he'd once asked of Alex and hadn't that turned out super well? Of course, that was then and this is now. Different time, different situation. "Yeah," Michael says simply as he waits for the car to be unlocked and he slips into the passenger side, “yeah, I do.”

There's something about the way that Michael looks at him that makes Alex feel open and raw, vulnerable in the ways that are terrifying and exhilarating all at once. He shivers, unlocking the car and once Michael's in, he takes a second to just breathe, willing himself to calm down, willing the heat to just dissipate from his body into the night air, willing his blood to circulate to other parts of his anatomy that are needed for driving. 

His car's adapted to make driving with one leg a little less taxing and when he starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot, he can barely look at Michael because of the weight in the air between them. It's thick and cloying and heavy and _hot_. Alex worries his lower lip, tongue and teeth catching on the skin there, gnawing at it, fingers tapping impatiently on the wheel as he drives just over the limit but not enough to end up having Evans stopping them. 

He chances a look at Michael, whose curls are moving with the breeze from the cracked open windows and wishes he hadn't because Alex is overwhelmed again with the need to sink his fingers into Michael's hair, to lose himself in a kiss. There's a temptation to just pull over here, crawl into the back and do something they never actually got to do as teenagers but that's not wise, so he tries to force himself to focus on the road and not the way Michael's gaze makes his skin feel like he's on fire and all Alex wants to do is burn.

Michael's gaze tracks over to Alex and settles rather firmly on how the other man worries his lower lip, tongue and teeth relentlessly assaulting that full bottom lip and he simply tips his head until there's an invisible force that brushes over that abused skin. It eases it free and then smooths over it as if he were touching Alex himself but he isn't, he's rather ostensibly still sat in the passenger seat.

Alex’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel when he feels the ghost of a touch against his mouth, tugging his lower lip free from his teeth. It feels like a thumb and Alex wonders why it had never occurred to him that Michael would have been able to use his powers for this, too. Of course he could, but with living with the secret of being a literal alien Alex thinks Michael’s never had the chance to experiment with his abilities on someone that knows.

Michael's eyes flick down and sure enough that touch does the same, slipping over the shell of Alex's ear where it slowly caresses in a way not too dissimilar to how Michael might do if his mouth was there instead. He was never able to use his abilities before but now that Alex knows he can tap in and give the other the full Michael Guerin experience complete with telekinetic groping. 

The car swerves a little when Alex feels that touch against his ear and he draws in a sharp breath, knuckles going white against the steering wheel and he manages to shoot a baleful look at Michael when they stop at a light. 

“That’s cheating, Guerin.”

Is it? Is it really? Michael doesn't consider it that way. His powers, they're a part of who or rather what he is, intrinstic and natural. It's like breathing or at least nowadays it is. He's never been able to use them in this way before and now that he can it's fair game.

"I don't think that it is," he argues with a casual lift of his shoulders and a slow reaching smirk that spells trouble.

"We won't even make it back to mine if you're not-" Alex's breath hitches again at another ghostly touch against his ear and a shudder ripples down his back. He's already worked up enough as it is from being pushed against the wall, the memory of Michael's body heat surrounding and encompassing him causing his cheeks to flush all over again. 

With the light changing, Alex pulls away and swallows, fingers flexing restlessly around the steering wheel as he pushed the speed limit just a little. "Fuck, that's distracting."

"That's kind of point," Michael replies as he catches his lower lip between his teeth and hold it there as that invisible touch of his drifts over Alex's neck. He knows every point that drives Alex crazy because he's taken the time to learn it during all the times they weren't talking. Normally it's his mouth and hands mapping the way but now he has one more thing in his arsenal, and he's making damn good use of it. 

He inhales and exhales as he allows the touch to trickle down Alex's spine.

Alex shudders again and grips the steering wheel tightly, leather creaking under the touch as his back arches into the brush of fingers down his back. "Guerin we won't-" He draws his lower lip between his teeth and breathes in sharply through his nose, suppressing the urge he has to push back into the touch even though he knows there's nothing physically there. 

He makes a right turn, a little quicker than he needs to, brows furrowed as he focuses on getting them to the cabin and not reacting to the wandering ghostly touches that run along his spine and over his side, brushing over his thigh in a way that makes his hips twitch and a curse fall from his lips. 

The drive to the cabin is agonising, Alex wishes they'd thought to take a cab because at least at that point they'd have been able to do something in the back seat, he'd have been able to touch Michael in return rather than just being the one being driven insane. He presses his head against the head-rest and groans a little, lower lip still between his teeth as he manages to throw a glare in Michael's direction, all heat and need rather than any actual anger. 

"Were you intending on making me run us off the road?" he asks as they come to a halt outside the cabin. He rubs at his lower lip, dark nail paint catching in the interior light.

"We wouldn't," Michael replies confidently as he pushes away from his side of the truck and slithers over as he all but straddles Alex's lap and catches his face in both of his hands. "I would've stopped it." And just like that he ducks down and slants his mouth, hot and hungry, over Alex's before drawing that lower lip into the heated recesses of his mouth as he honestly just needs to touch and taste as much as he possibly can. 

He's aware that by doing this they can't leave the car but right now he doesn't care all that much.

Alex isn't proud of how he keens into the kiss and presses up into the warm weight over him, barely resisting the urge to roll his hips upwards. The angle's awkward, he manages to push his chair back a little to give Michael a bit more space so the steering wheel isn't pressing against his back but the jolt of the chair brings their bodies together and he slides his hands up Michael's back, fingers of one hand fisting in his curls even as the other pushes down his torso, touch questing underneath his shirt to find skin contact, dragging his fingers over Michael's stomach until his touch rests at his hip.

"We should take this inside," he manages between kisses that are too much teeth, needy and passionate, still stealing his breath with each brush of Michael's skin against his.

There's a strangled sound caught in the back of Michael's throat when he feels fingers, Alex's fingers, in his hair that is soon accompanied by the first brush of skin over his stomach before it fimly grasps and claims his hip. "Yeah," he manages breathlessly as he reluctantly pulls away from the kisses though he only slips off the other man's lap to awkwardly open the door and slip out of it. His hand's complaining but it's nothing, easily ignored. 

He waits half a second before curling his fingers in towards his palm which results in the belt being released from where it sat across Alex's chest and a distinct tug at the front of that damned t-shirt.

Despite everything, Alex finds himself laughing as Michael draws away and uses his powers. "Don't rip the shirt," he manages, tugging the keys out of the ignition and carefully lowering himself out of the car, hand on the door to keep his balance because his equilibrium is off. Michael is looking at him in the way that makes Alex's skin burn in all the good ways and he can't think straight let alone remember how to balance himself properly when all he wants to do is drag Michael against him and use the car as support. 

He shuts the door and fishes in his pocket for the keys to the cabin, other hand pushing through his spiked hair, lined eyes looking back up at Michael. "I tried to find the visor," he confessed, fully aware of what had set Michael off and it isn't the first time that he's indicated there was a purpose to his outfit but it's the most obvious clue. "Turns out they didn't have any." 

He wets his lower lip and starts moving towards the door, pausing only briefly to curl his fingers in Michael's shirt and tug him along.

"Sonofabitch," Michael mutters but there's no heat to it. He shakes his head and then goes with the tug by Alex, more than eager to get inside and pick up where they left off. Honestly, Alex is wearing way too many clothes and the sooner Michael can remedy that the better. Hell, if he can get near those painted nails again? Even better. 

He waits until Alex's got the key in the lock and the door is unlocked before he crowds closer, using his telekinesis to provide something of a buffer for Alex as he knows the other man isn't as steady on his feet as he used to be and he'd noticed the slight struggle from earlier. As with most other times he removes his shirt first and tosses it aside before he just comes back in, hands cradling Alex's face as he kisses him with everything he has and feels.

It's a lot, it's always a lot.

Alex feels the gentle buffer of Michael's powers against him, holding him upright which is precisely what he needs because as Michael strips off his shirt and crowds his space again Alex's knees go weak. He grips at Michael's shoulders, the feeling of skin under his palm as his hands slide along the curve of his jaw and then down his chest, to his hips, securing against his lower back and pulling him in making him feel dizzy with anticipation. 

He bites at Michael's lower lip, sucks it into his mouth and releases it with a wet pop, lined eyes lifting and one brow arching a little in a challenge as he drags his fingers along the curve of Michael's back. 

"Bedroom's that way," he says, forgetting for a moment that there are things in there that remind him that he's not the same as he used to be, things in there that break the illusion Alex lives every day now he's shed the crutch. One of the reasons he's kept everyone away from the cabin aside from Valenti. He doesn't move, just steals another kiss from Michael like he's drowning, trying to shift their position slightly so they can move without having to break contact.

Michael murmurs Alex's name as he touches and pulls him in, breath catching in the back of his mouth when Alex's closes his teeth around his lower lip. He's burning, hot, ready, in need of every inch of Alex to be pressed against him. "Yeah?" He asks, eyebrow lifted. "Guess we should go that way before I get carried away."

He leans into and embraces the kiss, running his hands down Alex's back before curling them around his sides as he nudges them in the direction of the bedroom, managing to do it so they don't actually have to separate. Powers are good like that, especially for cushioning and catching on sharp edges or corners that might have hurt otherwise.

By the time they hit the bedroom Michael's so swept up in Alex and how fucking good he feels and tastes that he doesn't notice anything else and even if he did it wouldn't matter, not when he has his hands and more importantly his mouth on Alex Manes. The one and only guy he'd ever done this with.

The back of Alex's knees hit the bed and he breaks the kiss and drops his hands off Michael only to start pulling the UFO Emporium shirt off over his head. As he does, the black necklace from his teenage years (or the closest replica he could find) resting on his collarbone is even more visible. He looks up at Michael, feels a tugging in his gut again the likes of which he hasn't felt in years and he wets his lower lip, suddenly apprehensive. 

They're in his home, somewhere that's been his private sanctuary since he got back from the military hospital. The place he's kept people out of. The place he's kept _Michael_ out of. 

He lifts his hand, cups Michael's face and runs his thumb over Michael's kiss-swollen lower lip, wetting his own at the same time.

As Alex strips Michael leans back to watch, to savour, to admire and to just soak it in all in. He'd always thought Alex was fucking gorgeous but it doesn't seem to matter how many times he sees him stripped bare and naked beneath him he will never ever get over the feeling that curls in the pit of his stomach when greeted with it time after time. It's always new, always exciting, always leaves him wanting more. It's greedy and he knows that but fuck if he cares. 

He's aware of what a big deal this, of how much it must have taken Alex to bring him here, this is his _home_ and Michael knows this isn't just a case of having somewhere private. This is about something else and he's here for it, for Alex, whatever this means. He lets out a shaky breath as Alex runs his thumb over his lower lip and he chases it, catching it between his teeth and holding it for a moment, just a moment, and then he's sucking it into his mouth. All the while his eyes never leave Alex's.

It’s enough to make Alex's mouth drops open a little as Michael's lips close around his thumb, feeling the curl of a tongue over the tip and the rush that ripples through him is almost strong enough to cause his knees to buckle properly. His breath comes in a sharp, stuttered gasp and his teeth catch on his lower lip again, holding Michael's gaze as he feels himself surrendering, not that he hasn't already but this is different. 

He feels his whole self just break apart for the want of Michael's attention. His other hand drops the shirt that he'd still been holding and drags along Michael's stomach, just above the waistband of his jeans. He asks for permission with his eyes, unable to look away, as his hand fumbles with that unnecessarily large belt buckle. It would be easier with two hands, but Michael's claimed Alex's thumb and Alex is in no hurry to stop what he's doing.

Michael's body reacts on autopilot, arching to be closer to that wandering hand, and a slow lift of his eyebrow aids Alex with the belt buckle that sits in the middle of Michael's belt. It doesn't take much longer for that to unfasten and Michael withdraws from Alex's thumb and promptly pushes him back onto the bed before he's immediately crawling atop of him, being careful not to put too much weight on Alex's injured leg but at the same time not shying away from it.

Alex crashes backwards onto the bed but doesn't have a chance to even right himself because Michael's on top of him, lips sliding along his neck and Alex arches upwards. His skin sparks from where Michael's kissing down his neck, breath catching on Michael's name as his hand twists in his hair, the other roaming down the length of Michael's back just needing _more_. 

Michael's nose brushes along the column of Alex's neck before he follows it with his mouth, smiling against Alex’s collarbone when he hears the other man gasp. He wants or maybe, more accurately, _needs_ Alex and that means all of him, missing leg and all. Three-quarters of a Manes man he might be but he's a full whole of the man that Michael loves. 

Alex hisses as Michael’s teeth graze over his skin and he uses the hold in Michael's hair to lift his head, raising his own to kiss him again, touch resting at Michael's hip, using it to pull him down closer, crashing their bodies together. Michael's intoxicating, no one else has ever made him feel the same way. He kisses Michael in a way that he hopes says everything that he can't. He's always tried to talk with his body when words fail him. 

"You've got too many clothes on," he mumbles between searing kisses.

Michael makes a small sound at the back of his throat as those long fingers are back in his hair and it's honestly the best and worst thing ever mostly because of how worked up it gets him. "Could say the same about you," he rumbles back against Alex's lips before he's kicking his boots and socks off because it's a lot easier to shed jeans if you don't have shoes in the way. It's hard to think straight when Alex touches him like this and even more so when he pulls him closer to the point where their bodies collide in a way that is nothing short of earth-shattering. 

He sits up and braces his weight on his knees as his hands work Alex's belt free and popping the fastenings of his jeans, touch eager and wanting. Not that he stops there. No. Couldn't, not if he had the best self control in all the world. He pushes his hand past the waistband of Alex's underwear and promptly familiarises himself with the weight and length of the other man, loving how it feels in his palm. It might stay that way or he might replace his hand with his mouth, he hasn't quite decided yet.

All he knows is that he wants to make Alex feel good.

Alex groans, presses his head back into the bed and his eyes flutter shut as Michael's fingers curl around him and his whole body arches into the touch. His touch drops, fisting in the sheets, fingers twisting in the fabric as his hips rock up into the warmth and calloused touch that drives him wild and has done for longer than it had any right to. He hears himself saying Michael's name, tone slightly pleading but for what he doesn't know. 

He can't reach Michael right now, not without sitting up and his body isn't responding to any command other than Michael's touch so he settles for forcing his eyes open to watch the other man, doing his best not to just break down and beg for more. But Michael breaks him down in the best of ways, stripping away the careful walls he's built to protect himself, to protect _Michael_ . 

"Fuck-" he grunts, "Mi- _ngh_ \- fuck."

Michael's lips pull into a slow satisfied smile, loving the effect he has on Alex, and how expressive Alex is in these moments because this is when he's at his most honest. This is when he _knows_ how much Alex wants him and there's no doubt, no lingering insecurity playing on his already troubled mind. 

He runs his mouth down Alex's chest, pausing only briefly to catch on and tease a nipple, but then he's on the move again and he circles Alex's navel with a scrape of his teeth. As to not break contact with either mouth or hand he employs the use of his power to strip Alex of his jeans and then removes his underwear himself because he wants to have that moment.

Alex's hips lift when he feels his jeans being taken off and it's only a small twist in his stomach as they're eased off past the prosthetic, followed by his underwear (which had less of a wrench because he could feel Michael's fingers) and he knows that he'll have to take the prosthetic off at some point but right now he's lost in the sensations of Michael's lips against his skin, the dragging of teeth against his hip bone that makes him shudder in anticipation of what he feels might be coming next.

Michael runs hot, there's no denying that, but when he's with Alex he feels like he's burning up from the inside out. It’s never more evident than in how he gives Alex no chance to catch his breath before he's slipping his mouth over him, head lowering and lifting until he's got a smooth bobbing motion going.

His fingers tighten in the sheets again, knuckles white as he tenses his stomach, muscles trembling with the effort it was taking not to let his hips move in time with the bobbing of Michael's head and the warm, wet heat around him moving at a pace that Michael knows drives him insane. 

Michael really loves blowjobs, not just getting them but giving them, not that he's ever given anyone other than Alex this particular kind. He's gone down on plenty of women but not men. That is one thing solely reserved for Alex. He lets a sound escape him which he knows reverberates around Alex, adding further sensation to the movements that are smooth and practiced, knowing just what to do in order to make Alex feel good. 

It's embarrassingly arousing, how quickly flames coil within Alex, the roaring fire stoked by each bob and curl of Michael's tongue as he expertly takes Alex apart piece by piece. He releases one hand's grip on the sheets to push his hand into Michael's hair again, the sensation of Michael's curls kissing his skin almost too much sensation.

He loves the feel of his hand in his hair and flicks his gaze up to meet Alex's dark gaze, not really ready for the heat that explodes in the pit of his stomach because jesus fucking christ he looks so hot right now. He turns his attention back to finally deepthroat Alex, letting himself sit there for a moment as he adjusts before he simply returns to the previous motion, passing his tongue over the tip and allowing himself his first taste of Alex.

Alex's other hand leaves the sheets and twists in his own hair, turning his face into his upper arm as he breathes harshly against his skin, ragged and undone as Michael keeps moving and his hips jerk up, uneven movements that strengthen only after Alex manages to get his toes on the ground as a bit of leverage. 

A groan rumbles in the depths of his chest and Michael smooths his hands over Alex's hips, grip tightening to encourage him to move as much as he might want to.

It doesn't take long after that, Michael's mouth and the expert touch of his fingers, moving in all the ways that drive Alex mad and his breath stutters and he drags sharp, desperate breaths in through lungs that are caving in under the weight of Michael's presence and his touch and he barely manages a warning before the world's whiting out around him and he bites his upper arm, forgetting that they're safe here to be as loud as he wants to be, face hidden in his skin, arm cast over his eyes, fingers tight in his own hair so as not to hurt Michael.

Michael knows it's coming before Alex gives his warning and he's ready. So fucking ready. He simply opens his mouth that much more and guides Alex through his orgasm, throat working to swallow everything that Alex has to give. And he shouldn't but he loves the way it tastes and how he was the one to push Alex to that point where he lost all control, it's intoxicating, addictive even.

It's only when he feels Alex go slack and limp around him that he finally eases his mouth and busies it with mapping its way back up his chest until he fastens it around the other man's neck, biting down gently.

Alex released his hold on his own hair as Michael kisses his way back up to his neck, hand closing around the back of the other's neck, squeezing softly as he tries to bring his breathing back down into something that's more regular and less ragged like he's just been wrung dry of everything he has to give. He feels that way, like he's been taken apart and he's trying to just piece himself back into something resembling solid so that he can enjoy what comes next. 

Everything's sensitive, so as Michael bites down on his neck, tongue working in tandem with lips to leave what Alex knows is a mark, he slides both hands down Michael's back, relishing in the exposed skin he didn't get a chance to touch before, hands skimming over Michael's hips, over the curve of his ass, using the touch to draw Michael's hips down, grinding him into Alex which causes a full body shudder. 

He turns his head, catching the shell of Michael's ear gently between his teeth, running his tongue along the edge, rocking his hips upwards. He needs more, he knows Michael wants more, he can see it, he can _feel_ it.

Michael's eyes flutter at the touch to his back before he lets out a small groan as Alex's hands find purchase on his ass and he soon feels every inch of Alex pressing against him and it's honestly like he's never felt it before because it does things to him he can't really explain it. "Jesus," he utters sharply as Alex catches his ear and flicks his tongue over it at the same moment as those hips move. "You uh- I mean, do you have anything?"

Safety first or whatever that bullshit is that they taught in school, but really he knows how important is to have the right sort of prep and protection because sex shouldn't hurt unless you were into that sort of thing then more power to you.

Alex's brain stutters as Michael hisses against his skin and it takes him a moment to work out what Michael's even talking about. Does he have anything? What? It hits him a second later and he nods, shifting a little like he's going to get it himself because he can't reach it from where he is, but Michael's weight over him isn't moving and if he moves now Alex knows he'll flash-freeze from the loss of contact. 

Michael inhales and lifts a hand to push into the short dark strands of Alex's hair as the other man grazes his teeth along his jaw, it shouldn't feel as good as it does but it does, it really does. Nobody's ever made him feel the way that Alex has, it's a powerful overwhelming feeling and he's never ever found it with anybody else. He's also had a lot of sex so if it was possible he would have found it by now. 

"Draw on that-" Alex waves his hand, "side." He wets his lip, kisses the shell of Michael's ear and moves a fraction. "Don't cheat," he adds, kissing the underside of Michael's jaw, a slight graze of teeth, "I gotta- uh-" Take off his leg. Not really sexy, but the last time they did this quite so intimately it had all just happened in a blur of ten years of pent up want. He barely even remembers the prosthetic coming off.

"Alright, alright," is the muttered response, accompanied by a Michael Guerin eye roll special as he shifts to physically rummage through the drawer to fish out lube and condoms because yes _condoms_ , this sure as hell wasn't just happening once.

Alex takes a moment when Michael moves away and he just breathes, feeling a chill ripple through his skin as Michael moves away. He turns his head to watch the way the other moves, not quite graceful but there's desire written in everything he does, fingers fumbling over getting things because he wants Alex and Alex knows it. He sits up carefully, rubs his hand over his face and then touches his thigh, carefully rubbing along the skin before he removes his prosthetic, followed by the sock, breathing out carefully and chewing his lower lip, shoulders a little tense just from the action. 

He can feel Michael moving behind him, the bed dipping and the warmth that Michael radiates even from a distance brushing against the skin of his back and he turns his head slightly, pre-empting the question with, "I'm fine, Michael." 

He turns his upper body then, reaching up to pull Michael into another kiss, softer and less desperate but no less passionate.

Michael catches the back of Alex's neck in his hand and draws him closer, focusing his attention on pouring as much of what he was feeling into the kiss while the other fumbles in its search for the condoms and lube. Frustrated by his lack of coordination he uses his power and draws both closer until he can close his fingers around the condoms first and he draws back just to rip the foil with his teeth. Thankfully he manages not to damage it.

Alex shifts as Michael pulls him closer, adjusting how he is on the bed before he just twists properly, shifting his weight as he moves up the bed and lays back, using his own touch against Michael’s neck to pull him closer, draw him down on top of him.

Michael brushes his lips over Alex's jaw as he quickly and efficiently slips the condom on and manages to uncap the lube, spreading it over himself.

“I’m good,” Alex breathes into another kiss, voice low and rough and broken with the wanton need roiling in him. He’s defiant; he won’t ask because he knows Michael wants this as much as he does. Knows Michael _needs_ it.

Michael goes with the encouraging touch to his neck, moving to all but cover Alex, weight caught on his palms so he doesn't crush the other man or hurt him because that's the last thing he wants to do. He catches the back of Alex's neck in his hand, dropping another kiss on his mouth before he's reaching down to position himself in just the right place so when his hips roll forward he's easing in, burying himself in the other and the way it feels will never ever get old. 

Alex shifts under Michael, back arching as he feels him push forward, slide into him and just rest. His breath catches and he tips his head back, pressing it into the cushions as he resists the urge to roll into the touch, to press his hips back and make Michael _move_. 

He breathes and opens his eyes to look at Michael and knows that this is it. This is what he’s been searching for, because nothing feels the same as this. Nothing feels as right. 

His hands card through Michael’s curls and he seeks eye contact, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, lower lip spit shot from where he’s licked it. 

"Fuck," he groans as he flexes his fingers in the sheets, tension ripping through his arms and down the length of his spine as he just takes a moment to breathe because if he doesn't breathe then he'll lose all control and this won't last as long as he wants it to. Doesn't matter how many times they've done this it always feels like the first time.

“You okay?”

Michael nods his head because he doesn't trust his voice not to give away his... less than composed state. He flicks his tongue out before he leans down, crushing his mouth against Alex's just as he moves his hips for the first time, breath stuttering and catching in the back of his throat as he does. 

"Fuck, Alex," he utters, voice hoarse and bordering on broken. He's slept with a lot of people and when he says a lot he isn't even joking but there is nothing quite like being with Alex. Nobody and nothing including getting blistering drunk matches the sensations the other man stirs in him.

He smooths one hand down to grip at Alex's thigh and lift it higher, using his hand on the bed to brace himself as he begins a rhythm of rolling his hips forward.

Michael’s name catches on a groan, a bitten off plea as he starts rolling his hips. Alex gasps, breathes in sharply and shudders, swearing under his breath as he rocks up in time with Michael’s rhythm. They fit together, their bodies working in synch, knowing how to move. He bites Michael’s lip again, fists his hand in Michael’s hair as his other one slides down, scrabbling for purchase against the scarred skin, fingers splayed across the expanse, holding on as Michael moved. His good leg braces on the bed, Alex matches Michael’s pace with his own hips, breath coming in stuttered waves.

“Jesus, Michael-“

Michael groans as Alex's teeth close around his lower lip and shifts so that his weight is now on the width of his forearm which means the hand at Alex's thigh can slip away to curl around the other man so that he can stroke at the same time as he thrusts in and out, entire body shuddering at the contact. Every movement is like an electric shock to the system and he honestly cannot get enough, evident in how his movements become quicker and more desperate. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he gasps out as the pace is relentless, perfectly in sync, and every movement takes him deeper and deeper until he's balls deep and fucking Alex as if their lives depend on it. The bed's moving, headboard slamming against the wall, and it's a good thing Alex doesn't have any neighbours with adjoining walls because there would definitely be some serious complaints about the noise. It doesn't help that Michael's telekinesis is also causing a stir in the bedroom, errant touches through Alex's hair and smoothing over his legs including the damaged one, touch soft and reverent, intentional and pointed.

He breaks away from the kiss and instead buries his face in Alex's neck, hot sharp puffs of breath catching on the other man's skin as Michael continues to rock his hips in a motion that is smooth, fluid and most of all demanding.

Alex swears like a trooper as he hooks his good leg around Michael's waist, using it as leverage to tilt his hips, allowing Michael to sink deeper into him with each thrust. He feels their bodies coming together, bodies pushing and pressing and shuddering in tandem. 

The ghostly touches across his skin make him gasp and moan, Michael's name spilling off his lips like a prayer, fingers carding through his hair even as his other one sides down to cover Michael's hand around him, fingers covering Michael's, speeding up the pace a little because he can feel the heat coiling in his stomach again, that second orgasm creeping up on him.

The warm puffs of Michael's breath against his skin cause ripples of sensation to shoot down him and he turns his head to press a kiss to Michael's ear. "Fu- Michael-" his voice was hoarse and broken, "I'm- I'm close."

Michael makes a sound at the back of his throat at the admission about how close Alex was and fuck if that isn't hot. He drags his mouth up and catches Alex's in a heated desperate kiss, a groan breaking off the contact as there's a delicate shift and he's as deep as he possibly can be.

It's here where he lingers for a long moment, just letting himself and Alex feel it, that physical connection which supersedes everything else at this moment in time. And then the moment is gone as Michael rocks his hips again, letting that pace pick up, working his body in rolling motions.

"C'mon," he encourages, all low southern drawl, hand curling around the back of Alex's neck where he uses his touch to draw him back and press his forehead to his.

It's all it takes, the soft encouragement, the press of their foreheads together along with the deep thrusts making Alex see stars for him to fall apart around Michael. His eyes squeeze shut and his mouth falls open, whole body frozen as his back arches like a bowstring, a shudder and shiver rippling through him as his second orgasm rips through him, robbing him of the ability to do anything but ride it out, clutching onto Michael like if he doesn't he'll float away. 

His leg tightens around Michael's waist, relying completely on Michael to not let him fall, using the touch to keep him close, to hold him tight as surges up and kisses Michael again, licking his way into Michael's mouth and letting it drown the sounds of his orgasm.

And he doesn't, he curls his arms rather firmly around Alex as he surges up and he holds him close as he feels him coming apart around him. It won't take much more for Michael to join him. Not much at all. He was already close, so close. 

A few more rolls of his hips and Michael can feel the pressure building at the base of his spine and it's Alex's tongue finding and curling around his own that breaks him.

His entire body tenses before sure enough the orgasm crashes over him in all the ways he was not ready for and all he can do is curse and mutter Alex's name over and over as all he can do is ride the wave, teeth catching on Alex's lower lip as he muffles the sounds he's making against the other man's mouth.

Alex loves the feeling of Michael coming apart, the way that the bed trembles and shakes - something he now knows is as a result of Michael's powers - and how the world always tilts on its axis. How everything shifts and rocks and Alex never knows which way is up. 

His hands run down Michael's back, fingers moving along the ridges of his spine reverently, breathing in the groans and whispers of his name as Michael comes to pieces above him. 

When their trembling finally stops, Alex cups Michael's cheek and looks up at him, lips twitching up into a satisfied, by mischievous, smile, thumb brushing over his lower lip again, lifting his head to nudge their noses together. "Was it the nose ring?"

Michael rolls his eyes and against all better judgement, he chases after Alex's thumb before returning the nudge of the nose. "You know damn well it was all of it." 

He inhales, ducks his head, and catches Alex's mouth in a kiss as he rests his weight on his forearms. He hasn't pulled away and won’t just yet, not when he wants to really feel this moment. Also? He isn't sure what happens next.

It's not like they've ever successfully ended a sexual encounter on a positive note. The last one had ended rather abruptly by Isobel's arrival and they haven't had one since.

Alex snorts a little, amused with the answer and how Michael just rolls his eyes before stealing another kiss. Alex responds in kind, he has no idea how to not react to Michael with everything he has and it's terrifying. Jesse Manes isn't in Roswell anymore, he's not coming back and even if he did he can't hurt Michael anymore but Alex can't shake the knowledge that it's partly his fault that Michael just stayed here. 

He doesn't make any indication that he wants Michael to move, committing the sensation to memory. He doesn't know what's next either, he just doesn't want Michael to leave but doesn't know how to ask him to stay. If he's honest he hasn't thought much past what happened at the party. 

He eventually drops his leg from around Michael's waist, his stump aching from the angle he's holding it at. Michael turns his head and runs his hand over Alex's right leg, dragging his thumb over the muscle he knows without looking must be tight and working it in idle but purposeful circles.

"If I'd known it'd be that effective I'd have done it a lot sooner," he teases, though honestly he probably wouldn't have done, he’d needed the time to pull his head together, brush the cobwebs of a tangled past out of the way. "You okay?" Because it feels like that was intense, he wants to make sure, eyes searching Michael's hazel gaze for... for what he isn't sure. Something that tells him what happens next, something that maybe tells him what Michael wants.

"Yeah, I'm-" He wet his lower lip and clears his throat as he shifts, but he doesn't go far, just rolls off to settle at Alex's side to take care of the less than fun side of sex which is of course tossing the condom with a flick of his telekinesis and sure enough it hits the nearby trashcan. "I just-" He inhales and lifts his gaze. "What happens now? I mean, it's not like Isobel's gonna rock up here."

Alex flinches a little at the memory of their time in Michael's airstream, what had been an incredible night and what should have been a lazy morning ruined by his own fears of them being discovered. It isn't that he's ashamed of Michael, or himself, but he's spent so long pushing himself into something protected, something _hidden_ that those old habits are hard to break.

He appreciates the gentle massage, feeling less shame than usual when a hand brushes over the stump, the neat stitching which is all that's left of the lower part of his right leg. He wets his lower lip and shifts onto his side, feeling empty and cold now that Michael's no longer buried in him and he suppresses a shiver, though the hair on his arms stands on end anyway. 

He doesn't reply for a long moment, chewing on his lower lip, feeling his brows furrowing slightly as he tries to work out how to phrase the word 'stay' without using that word. As he tries to work out how to voice what he wants because he is tired of walking away. He is tired of not saying what he wants to say, and doing what (and who) he wants to do. 

"If you're really unlucky," he settles for, his lips curled up in an affectionate smile, "Valenti might in the morning. If- uh- if you're willing to risk it?" He glances away, knowing Michael won't say no - Michael never says no to Alex even when he should - but still having an ice-block of fear in his chest that maybe this time will be the time Michael realises he doesn't want to keep being messed around by someone who never means to but somehow keeps managing to do just that.

Alex isn't wrong. Michael finds it near impossible to say no to Alex even when he should. There's just something about the other man, something he can't explain, something cosmic he thinks was the word he used. "I think I can handle Valenti," is what he returns with a smirk.

His touch continues to be idle but purposeful in its movements, knowing full well what it's like to have an injury hinder and freeze up because his hand does it all the time. Spasms when he least expects it and causes pain, but it is what it is, no point crying over spilt milk. 

"So, yeah, I think I'll risk it."

Alex wets his lower lip and presses a kiss to the corner of Michael's mouth. He takes in a slow breath and nods his head, "I might just text him anyway, tell him not to come by for breakfast in the morning." 

He shifts again, hand trailing down Michael's arm to his wrist, gently stopping the ministrations and lacing their fingers together. "I figure we can probably work breakfast out on our own, right?"

Michael tightens his grip on Alex's hand as his own covers his and laces their fingers together. "Yeah, I think we can handle that." He shifts so he's facing Alex a little better, running his free hand over his arm and over his neck where he soon drops a kiss.

This is new territory for them and luckily for them both, Michael's never been afraid of exploring.

Alex hums a little and lets Michael's touch drag over him before he murmurs his name to get his attention. As Michael reluctantly lifts his head from where he's been making himself familiar with the curve of Alex's throat, he speaks again. "I- I've got some shit to take care of before we settle in for the night." Discomfort flickered across his face slightly, the reminder that he wasn't the same as he used to be more obvious than ever. "You think you can give me a hand?" 

Honestly, his whole body feels like jello, the echo of Michael inside of him meaning he isn't sure he could stand up even if he wants to, his good leg's pretty useless in the aftermath of what they've just done.

Michael's brow draws together before he gives a small nod of his head. "Yeah, sure, just tell me what you need." It's easily said because whatever Alex needs he's there to give especially as Alex might not be whole but he's still Alex and that's never going to change.

To him it's not a big deal but he knows it is to Alex so Michael's going to let Alex take the lead on this, tell him what he does or does not need help with and guide Michael.

Alex's ears are flushed pink as he cleans himself up and gets his underwear back on - because naked physio requires a level of comfort with his body that he still doesn't have - and talks Michael through his exercises. Michael supports him in silence, though he cracks a joke halfway through that makes Alex laugh and he hadn't realised how much he needs that, needs lightness while he's trying to work on retraining his body to adjust to his new normal. 

When he's done, he's exhausted and sits down heavily on the bed, hands reaching for Michael's hips, tugging him closer until he can press a kiss to his stomach. 

"Thanks," he manages, mumbling the words into Michael's skin.

Michael hums low in the back of his throat before he pushes a hand through Alex's dark hair, shoulders lifting into a shrug. "Glad I could help." The unspoken _I'm glad you let me help_ lingers in the space between them and accented by the brush of Michael's thumb over Alex's scalp.

He can tell that Alex is tired though, can see it in the slump of his shoulders, and he passes his hand over Alex's shoulder and runs it down his back until he uses his grip and a gentle nudge of his telekinesis to draw him close enough so he can wrap his arms around him more fully.

"How does sleep sound to you?"

"Sleep sounds amazing," Alex mutters, lips still against Michael's skin and his thumbs rub absent, idle circles where they're resting over his hips. "And then in the morning, we can use the rest of the supplies you took outta my drawer. Don't bother putting them away." 

Tired as he was, he tipped his head, chin resting just above Michael's navel, eyes full of the promise of _later_.

Michael gives a chuckle and his lips settle into a smirk. "I'm gonna hold you to that." He smooths a thumb over Alex's eyebrow before he just pulls him up into another kiss but this one lacks heat, it's very much a soft tender kiss that speaks volumes for how much care and affection Michael had for the other man.

"Mm," Alex replies against Michael's lips between gentle kisses, "feel free to." 

Withdrawing from the heat of Michael's arms only to half lift himself and drag the sheets down, Alex considers apologising for hot having the same stamina as he might have done before he left a part of himself behind in another country, but knows Michael won't accept that. 

Instead, he lays back onto the pillows and watches Michael moving to join him, shimmying at least back into his underwear. "At least this bed's more than big enough for both of us," he teases, though the moment Michael joins him, Alex is wriggling over to his side, tucking himself up under Michael's arm. Michael immediately welcomes the other man into his arms where he curls one hand around the back of his head and strokes his thumb through the short, dark strands of Alex’s hair.

"I am not complaining," he assures Alex with a small smirk. "I mean I'd be lying if I said it wasn't good to not worry about falling out of bed."

Alex loops one arm over Michael's waist, thumb smoothing over the skin just underneath his ribcage and he chuckles. "Yeah, I'm gonna spoil you for single beds now. The airstream won't be the same."

A small snort escapes Michael and he shifts so he's able to tangle his legs in Alex's which means he's pressed against as much bare skin as he can possibly reach. "I'll survive, somehow."

"I dunno, you'll miss my bed when you're back in your single with the lumpy mattress," Alex teases right back, pressed his chest to Michael’s side, nose brushing the curve of Michael's jaw. He tips his head back and presses a kiss there before he settles, head on Michael's shoulder.

Michael isn't about to assume or presume that this is more than a one time deal so he's not going to get too familiar but he knows that he’ll miss this, not just the bed but everything about this moment when the spell breaks and it’s all over. As he turns his head it's not the first time he's taken aback at just how fucking gorgeous Alex is. Honestly, he's a masterpiece. It doesn't even matter to Michael that he's missing part of his leg because he's still Alex, inside and out, and sure he's not quite the same but neither is he, but he can still see the Alex he fell in love with him in those dark chocolate eyes of his and that's more than enough for Michael.

"That mattress and I, we go way back, don't you go insulting it."

There's a snort that accompanies Alex's wry smile and affectionate eye roll. "I'm just saying, it's a miracle you've not got a bad back." His hand rests on the flat of Michael's stomach before idling higher, to rest over his heart, able to feel the fluttering thump-thump of a heartbeat underneath his fingertips. It lifts only to push that curl away from Michael's right eye and Alex smiles up at him, his chest tight and feeling fit to burst with the swell of emotions that ricochets through him swiftly enough to make him feel dizzy every time. 

"What?" he adds, a moment later, brows furrowing a little at the look Michael's giving him.

"Nothing," Michael says with a shake of his head though he knows he can't get away with that given the look that Alex gives him and he just rolls his eyes. A breath in and a breath out. "I just- I was just thinking about how gorgeous you are, that's all." And he feels self-conscious, evident in how he lifts his shoulder and a faint colouring of red in his cheeks.

Alex's ears go pink and he turns his head to press a kiss to Michael's shoulder, using the hand on his chest as leverage to push himself up, supporting himself with his elbow planted into the pillow beside Michael's head. 

He leans forward and kisses Michael again, gentle and soft and he nudges their noses together. He doesn't know what to say to that, so he just smiles a little and says, "I'm lucky," because he is. "But you don't have to watch to make sure I'm sticking around. We're in my bed, Guerin." Because he thinks that might be part of it too, and he can't blame Michael for feeling unsettled or uncertain like he might wake up alone.

Nervous? Paranoid? Michael? Never. Only he is. It isn't like he hasn't got a good reason for it. Just when things are going really well something else comes along and knocks them off track and he's left trying to play catch up. He searches Alex's expression - and to Alex’s credit he doesn’t look away, he just waits patiently while Michael searches his gaze for something - and seemingly when he's found what he's looking for he nods his head. 

"Yeah, you're right." So, sleep. That was going to happen, wasn't it?

Alex just hums again and resettles against Michael. Their tangled position is more comfortable than it has any right to be and Alex can feel exhaustion pulling at his bones. He's warm and comfortable and _safe_ and for tonight that's more than enough.


End file.
